Five Times Jack Could Have Said Something
by Lynzee005
Summary: ... And The One Time He Did. Jack knows he should say something to Sue, but he just can't get the words out, no matter how many chances he has to tell her exactly how he feels. **COMPLETE**
1. The Fear You Won't Fall

**Hey everyone! I'm back and ready to go, with a whole new fandom to conquer - muahahaha! This is a fun little story I concocted a few days ago and have been writing ever since - part 1 of 6 in a series of vignettes looking back at the development of Jack Hudson and Sue Thomas's relationship, and specifically where Jack could have told Sue exactly how he felt (but, for whatever reason, he failed to do!)

The chapter titles are taken from songs by Joshua Radin that I thought worked well in the context of the chapter! A quick search on YouTube should bring you to the song so you can hear it, if you want to, while you read!

[Chapter soundtrack: "The Fear You Won't Fall" by Joshua Radin]

This first chapter takes place immediately after the events of 1.15, "Prodigal Father."

This story is purely speculative, and all aspects of the show belong to their respective creators and the producers, not me. Darn!**

* * *

- 1 -

The Fear You Won't Fall

There were a lot of very good reasons why Jack became paralyzed with fear at the thought of telling Sue how he felt. He had known, from the first moment he met her, that she was remarkable. She carried herself with the dignity of Audrey Hepburn, possessed the beauty of Rita Hayworth, and laughed like Gracie Allen. He didn't think it was a stretch to say that spending his days with her had given him a deeper insight into the human condition. She made him want to be a better man.

"_I hope it works out the way you want it to." _

He grimaced just thinking about the way he'd bungled the exchange in front of the elevator bank moments before. Even when confronted with his ex-girlfriend, Sue was selfless and beautiful and _perfect_... and those were just three reasons why he couldn't say the words he wanted to say.

Jack closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the elevator, exhaling loudly and feeling his stomach cave as the lift began its descent. She had given him the perfect opportunity to say something - _"If you come with me now..." _he could have said, or _"I only want it to work out with you..."_ - and he'd blown it by bailing into the open elevator instead.

Taking the easy way out had never been his _modus operandi_, but where Sue was concerned, Jack could never seem to find his footing on that more difficult path.

So instead, he stood listless, stranded in the gulf between the person he had once been and the person he wanted to be. That was true now, just like it was true every other day of the week, and while he was getting more and more used to it, he was certain that his disappointment showed on his face. He simply hadn't yet reconciled the fact that the distance between his desk and Sue's might as well have been as wide as the Pacific.

Each of those things were more than reason enough for Jack to keep away, and together, they amounted to a wall he had yet to breach. The FBI could have been actively _encouraging_ inter-office fraternization - the director himself could have offered to _pay for their wedding!_ - and Jack's own moral compass would still have told him there was something less than savoury about dating one's co-worker. _Never mind the fact that you are her training agent_, he would remind himself constantly_._ Beautiful or not, he had to draw the line somewhere.

It all made him wonder: had she drawn the same line as well?

With a flicker of a smile, Jack remembered seeing her in the hospital. Everyone had been there to check in on him, and he'd done his best to joke and make light of the situation. But when she returned, alone, her face was etched with such worry. It wasn't the same kind of worry marking Bobby's or Lucy's faces. In Sue's eyes, Jack could have sworn he saw something different, something that went beyond simple friendship and camaraderie.

If she _had_ drawn a line, she was playing jump rope with it as much as he was.

The elevator began to slow down, and Jack opened his eyes, right as the heavy doors began to slide open. He stepped out into the lobby, slowly, each step heavy and leaden; he tried stepping lightly, afraid he'd break through the marble floor each time his heel struck the ground. Allie was parked outside the large front doors. She waved at him, and he smiled a little and waved back, pushing open the doors and putting on his bravest face for her sake.

Allie talked a blue streak the entire way home, but Jack wasn't paying attention. He watched the trees and buildings of D.C. whirr by outside the window and counted pigeons every time the car came to a stop at a red light or a stop sign. He felt badly about it; Allie was a good woman, and he had loved her once. But he didn't know what to feel anymore.

As if on cue, Allie reached over across the gear shift and gave his hand a squeeze. "Are you bored? I can stop talking. You probably just want to rest, don't you?"

He shook his head and tried to find his voice, lodged deep in the back of his throat. "No, it's fine," he smiled.

"Okay."

Jack looked down at her hand, wrapped around his. _There's nothing in this world quite like a good woman's touch, Jack,_ his father had told him years earlier. Jack had found that statement to be an inalienable truth in a world slowly going completely mad. He'd had girlfriends who could do that to him: women who could lay their fingers on his arm, or knead away the knots in his tense shoulders, and he'd be as pliable as Silly Putty in their hands. But none of them - not even Allie - could do what Sue could do. With her, it was so much more than her touch; a stolen glance could have the exact same effect as if she'd pulled him in for the kiss to end all kisses. There was so much power in her eyes, trained over years of signing to emote. Hell, she could curl her lip in a half-smile and he'd melt into a puddle beneath his desk.

No, Sue was definitely different. It was confirmed. In the moments before she found her way back to his hospital room, and in the moments after she left again, he felt jumbled, disconnected, and was trying very hard to relax in spite of it all. But when Sue's warm hand had found his, he figured he had to be dreaming, because he swore he felt her her pulse - her heartbeat - through her palm and the tips of her fingers. Ironic, that. There he'd been, hooked up to IVs and dosed with mexilitene to keep his heart beating properly, and all she had to do was take his hand in hers to get him back in synch.

As Allie's long, tapered fingers laced their way through his, he felt... nothing.

In the quiet stillness of his empty bachelor apartment that night, once Allie had left for her hotel, Jack paced the floor staring at his phone, clutching Sue's number in the other hand. Twice, he dialed everything but the last number before hanging up in frustration. But after chastising himself for acting like a lovestruck teenager, he felt a wave of fatigue drift over his body, dragging his eyelids down to cover his eyes even as he stood there, leaning over the sink. So he turned down the lights and crawled into a freshly made bed, two sizes too big for one man, and as he lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, he concentrated on his heart, willing it to beat the way Sue had made it beat.

He'd been right that day in the hospital when he told her how terrified he'd been knowing his own heart had been out of his control.

He chuckled. "In more ways than one," he muttered to no one as the edges of his reality blurred, obscuring the boundary between waking and sleep.

If he hadn't still been holding his phone, he never would have heard it ring. He fumbled to answer it, swinging his arm up from under the covers and slamming himself in the side of the head before connecting the call on the third ring.

"Ow!" he cried out, unwittingly, into the receiver. "Hello?"

There was a pause, as his voice translated into text for her to read. "Jack?" Sue's voice finally sounded on the other end. "Were you sleeping?"

His eyes snapped open and his pain disappeared. "No... no, I'm still up," he smiled. "Just resting."

"Good to hear." He could tell she was smiling too. "I just wanted to call and see how you were doing."

"Great," he said. "Feeling better already."

"I'm glad," she said. "It's good to know Allie will be there to take care of you."

"Oh, she's at her hotel now," Jack blurted out.

"Oh."

Jack winced at the out-of-place comment. And then the thought struck him all at once. _She's given you a golden opportunity, Jack... there's no elevator to dive in to! Don't blow it this time! _He cleared his throat and closed his eyes.

"Speaking of Allie... Sue, about this afternoon... ."

"What about it?"

"Well... I-I didn't quite get a chance to... I mean, the elevator... ."

"Uh-huh?"

"You see...," he sighed, losing his nerve. _I think I'm falling in love with you, Sue Thomas. And I can't __**stop**__ thinking about you! And if I didn't tell you that, I was afraid I might explode, and that's all there is to it... ._

"Jack?"

"...I guess what I'm trying to say is... ."

"Yes?"

Another sigh. He placed his hand over his chest and felt the vibrations of his heart beat running up his arm, into his shoulder, to the place where Sue's hands had to expertly massaged away his tension days earlier.

He couldn't say it. A million reasons stood between them. But in that moment, the one that stuck out the most for him was the very palpable fear that she wouldn't say it back... .

"Sue...," his voice caught in his throat, but a calamity on the other end of the phone stopped him cold.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Jack, but I have to go," she laughed. "Levi got into my ice cream!"

Jack smiled. "Oh, all right then," he said, and then, out of habit, "I'll see you in the morning."

"No you won't," she was grinning. "You'll be in bed. Resting."

"Right," he nodded. "Well then... ."

"Good night, Jack. And get better," she ordered, her voice softening around the words. "We miss you."

Her phone clicked as she hung up, and Jack held it close for a moment before tucking it away on the bedside table. He still heard her last words to him ringing in his head.

_She's too good, too beautiful, too perfect to be touched_, Jack told himself. _Besides, you're her boss. And she'll never say it back to you._

Five good reasons right there. He looked at his hand, five fingers stretched out. Fingers to hold. Fingers to spell. Fingers to count the ways in which he'd never get close to the one person he wanted more than anything.

Jack exhaled and clenched his hand under his pillow, out of sight, while he drifted off into his dreams... .


	2. Paperweight

**Hey again - thanks for the reviews! Here is chapter 2. It's set during episode 2.05 ("The Newlywed Game") and details the third (and, I suppose, final) night that Jack and Sue remain undercover next door to the Vanderwylens. I hope you like it!

[Chapter soundtrack: "Paperweight" by Joshua Radin and Schuyler Fisk]

* * *

-2-

Paperweight

_Third time's the charm_, Jack thought as he turned down the bed and fluffed his pillow in the pitch blackness of the guest room. They'd been undercover for two nights, which meant he hadn't slept for two nights either. He should have known better than to jinx everything by boasting that he could sleep anywhere.

With a deep sigh, he crawled under the sheets and pulled them up under his arms. _Let's try this again... ._

It had been an hour since he went upstairs to ready himself for bed. Sue had insisted on finishing the dishes and tidying up after their visit with the Vanderwylens, refusing Jack's offer of help and ignoring his protestations as she ushered him out of the kitchen. The look in her eyes as she sent him off to bed told him that she knew he hadn't been sleeping well. He hadn't told her about the mild insomnia, and chalked it up to intuition on her part; whatever the reason, he was touched by her concern and obeyed her to the letter.

Now, he watched shadows from the street outside playing on the walls of the sparsely furnished guest room. It was what he'd done on the previous two nights, trying to lull himself to sleep at a decent hour and failing to do so. He couldn't explain it. Never before had he been unable to coax a decent nights' sleep out of himself, let alone for two nights in a row.

Jack sighed; a car passed by on the street outside, flashing its lights through the slits in the vertical blinds and lighting up the room. He could still see the wicker box he'd pulled out for Sue to stand on earlier in the day, resting under the window where they'd left it following their awkward embrace.

_Maybe that was the reason_, Jack thought to himself. _You're sleeping ten feet down the hall from the woman you've been pining over for the better part of a year... ._

Jack was no innocent; he was, after all, a single man, and he'd been with his share of beautiful women. With Sue, things were so radically different on so many levels that he knew he had to play the game differently too. But his own state of self-imposed abstinence wasn't a ploy or a calculated attempt to show Sue that he was as much of a gentleman as she needed him to be. He hadn't so much as smiled kindly at another woman since meeting her, and it was because he genuinely hadn't wanted to.

That made this assignment the most difficult yet: the woman he'd been, for all intents and purposes, saving himself for was sleeping on the other side of the wall behind his headboard. She showered seventeen feet away every morning, and she ate her breakfast and drank tall glasses of orange juice right next to him at the kitchen island. All the intimacies and familiarities of a married couple, and there was not a thing he could do about it.

The sound of water running in the master bathroom shower served to hammer the point home all over again. Frustrated, Jack rolled over and punched his pillow, harder than he'd intended to, to fluff it up again. But it didn't do him any good. with another deep sigh, he pushed himself up and swung his legs out from under the covers. Searching in the dark for a pair of pyjama bottoms and his discarded undershirt, he stubbed his toe into the wicker basket and bit back his curses as he sank back onto the bed, clutching his foot.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

For what it was worth, the team had done an excellent job "furnishing" the house. Jack had no idea from whose library the books had arrived - though he suspected that Myles may have played a much larger role in title selection than anyone else - but he was pleased to find a relatively vast and varied collection of novels and non-fiction works, most of which were still packed up in boxes. It was a convincing set-up; they all knew the undercover operation would never last long enough to require the books to be unpacked, but if anyone ever looked in the crates on the floor, they wouldn't have any reason to suspect that the Hudsons were avid readers and just hadn't had time to settle in.

He picked through the first box and pulled out a tired Harlequin romance novel. _Thanks Lucy_, he chuckled to himself as he set the book aside and wondering if he'd guessed correctly on the owner of the book. Glancing into the box, he suddenly got an idea for a game.

He was so absorbed in his world - pulling book after book out of the box and assigning it to a pile, one for each team member - that he didn't hear her coming down the stairs, or turn into the kitchen, or rummage through the fridge to find a bottle of water. Only when she turned to back towards the stairs and gasped in surprise did he stop what he was doing and turn around to face her.

"Sue!" he cried, leaping to his feet. "I didn't hear you."

"That's supposed to be my line," she replied, her eyes still wide and her face flushing pink. Levi sat back on his haunches at her side, and she drew her blue bathrobe tighter around her body and shuffled her feet in their fuzzy slippers, her still-damp hair falling in loose waves around her face. Even from across the room, he caught the scent of her shampoo carried in the air. He swallowed hard and looked around.

"I was just so... involved, I guess... ."

"Yeah," she nodded, stepping through the hallway that separated the kitchen from the living room and putting her hand on her hip as she surveyed the scene. "Still can't sleep, huh?"

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Yeah... well I thought I'd try reading a book, and... uh... I ended up playing this game... ." He let a small chuckle escape his lips as his face continued to flame.

She looked up at him and then back at the piles of books on the floor, her face masked with skepticism. "A game?"

"Well... yeah," he nodded. "I'm trying to guess who donated which books to our burgeoning library."

Sue raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Sounds interesting."

"I thought so," Jack offered quietly, sheepishly.

"Can I try?" she asked.

Jack didn't even bother trying to hide his surprise. "Sure!" He bent over the third box and grabbed a stack of books, while Sue stepped over and between precariously placed biblio-towers to perch on the edge of the sofa, with Levi two steps behind her.

"You ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be," she grinned.

He nodded and produced a dog-eared copy of a _Star Wars _novel. Sue smiled and screwed up her face in thought.

"Bobby?" she asked.

Jack smiled. "That's just what I was going to say!" he announced as he placed the book in the 'Bobby' pile. "I'd say that's one for one! Now how about this...?" and he pulled out the novel _Ulysses_ by James Joyce.

"Hmm," she set her lips in a firm line. "I think that would have to be either Demetrius or Myles... ."

"Why?" Jack turned to look at the weighty tome's front cover.

"Because I think they're the only people on the team who have the patience to read Joyce in the first place."

Jack feigned hurt. "Ouch. You sure know how to bruise a guy's ego! At any rate," he set the book down between Demetrius's and Myles's piles, "We'll come back to that one."

Sue nodded with a small chuckle.

Jack then pulled the final book from behind his back. "And now...," he announced, holding the book out in front of him, "Ah, _The Blind Watchmaker_, by Richard Dawkins."

Sue continued to smile. "What do you think?"

"Well," he examined the book. "It's very well kept... no dog-eared pages... so I'd be tempted to go with Myles on this one. Or maybe Tara. I know she took some biology and philosophy courses in school... ."

"Hmm," Sue smiled.

"Why? Who do you think it belongs to?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's mine, actually."

Jack's shock must have been evident; Sue began to chuckle. "Surprised?"

"Well I... uh...," he looked down at the book in his hands. "I guess I just thought... what with Dawkins being so... _bombastic... _and you being such a spiritual person... ."

"I believe that science can coexist nicely alongside my faith," she replied with a kind smile. "They're not mutually exclusive ideas. At least that's how I was raised."

Jack grinned and handed her the book. "Thomas, there's a lot I still need to learn about you."

She smiled. "I think you'll find that, when you get right down to it, I'm not a very interesting person."

_That couldn't be farther from the truth,_ Jack thought. "Nonsense," he scoffed at her, and she moved over on the couch to make room for him to join her. As he fell into the sofa, he patted her knee and settled into silence for a moment. From his vantage point on the sofa, he surveyed the piles of books and empty boxes and heaved a sigh. "I made quite the mess, didn't I?"

"It's all right. We are supposed to be just moving in, right?"

"Right," he replied.

"The question is: did you find anything good to read?"

Jack nodded. "There are so many books here, I'd be seriously remiss if I couldn't."

They sat in silence on their opposite ends of the sofa for a while, listening to the sounds of the house at night. Levi snorted beside Sue; the furnace kicked on and began to hum; the clock in the kitchen tick-tocked its way into the wee hours.

Jack realized they had never gone this long without one of them speaking. Having lapsed into such a comfortable, friendly silence, he didn't want to break the spell by pointing that fact out to her. He looked at her instead, smiling, and when she returned it to him, he figured she knew already anyway.

"If you want, you can read and sleep in my room tonight," she offered.

Jack's eyes widened in surprise, and he saw her shut her eyes in embarrassment. "I mean... you can sleep there, and keep the light on, I mean, and I'll sleep... well, obviously... ."

"That's okay," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'll just stay down here for a while and try my luck with...," he reached out and grabbed the first book on the closest pile to him, "..._Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_." Jack scowled as he read the back cover of the book he'd selected, realizing quickly it wouldn't be the kind of book he'd want to read at all.

Sue looked pensive for a moment, biting her lower lip - _Can she get any more adorable? _he asked - before lifting the book in her lap up and giving a cursory perusal of its pages. "Maybe I'll join you then," she said. "I need to catch up on my reading anyway."

Jack felt his heart skip-roping in his chest cavity. "Sure... I mean, if you want to... ."

"If you want the company, that is," she replied at the same time.

Jack swallowed hard and nodded reflexively. "I'd love it."

The word had barely passed his lips as he and Sue locked eyes; he saw her blush again, so he looked away. He hadn't meant to say it - that word, 'love', even in the context in which he'd said it - but he had, and there was no way to take it back now that it was out there, floating next to the coconut scent playing between the strands of Sue's hair. He pursed his lips and smiled but kept his eyes averted as, tentatively, they got comfortable.

In the dim light of their faux-living room, on their faux-sofa, surrounded by their faux-library, Jack and Sue curled up next to one another and buried their heads within their books. Anyone passing by the window would have looked in and saw an exhausted couple taking a break from unpacking, reading side-by-side, not needing to say a word. Such was the ease with which he and Sue fell into step with one another, and that fact was not lost on Jack; even if the whole setup was simply an illusion, he was going to relish the feeling in spite of himself and, perhaps, his better judgment.

But sleep claimed him before he had much of a chance to enjoy it. His book fell in his lap and eventually slipped to the floor, as blankets were pulled around chilled shoulders and cold feet tucked themselves between warm ones in half-asleep reveries. The last thing he remembered was stretching his legs down the length of the couch and making room for Sue to settle in beside him... .

Jack awoke at first light feeling more rested than he had felt in a long time. As the world outside warmed up under the butterscotch touch of mid-autumn morning sunshine, he watched in awe as the woman nestled under his arm - her cheek pressed against his chest - breathed in a sleepy breath and exhaled, warming his skin under the fabric of his cotton t-shirt. They had been that way all night long, and even though nothing had happened, it was still quite possibly the most intimate experience Jack had ever had with another person.

Before he had time to even rub sleep from his eyes, he knew he was fighting a losing battle with himself: she reached her hand up to rest next to his face, her thumb brushing his ear, and he'd leaned forward ever-so-slightly, pressing his lips against her forehead.

_You're a goner, Jack Hudson_, he thought to himself. But he stopped himself from laughing; the moment was perfect, and last thing he wanted to do was ruin it by waking her up.

So, for the second morning in a row, Sue overslept. And when she finally opened her eyes, Jack couldn't explain it but he had the distinct impression that she didn't mind one bit.


	3. Everything'll Be Alright

**Hey everyone! I'm so sorry for the delay - I was in Calgary for the Arcade Fire show last weekend, then spent a few days chaperoning band camp for some of my students at the high school I student taught at (yay!)... and then I promptly got sick (boo!). Through it all, this chapter got shuffled to the back burner while I partied and then recuperated.

Plus, it was a tough chapter to write. I'm not 100% happy with it and would love it if you could give me critical feedback on anything you see that needs fixing!

It takes place somewhere almost near the end of episode 2.12 ("The Lawyer")

[Chapter soundtrack: "Everything'll Be Alright (Will's Lullaby)" by Joshua Radin]

Thanks a ton! Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

-3-

Everything'll Be Alright

Jack wasn't sure what had been worse: the crippling fear of knowing that he might be days away from losing his job, or the pressure cooker sensation that assaulted him, pressed on his lungs and made his shoes and his clothes and his body feel ten sizes too small for what they contained, now that he was sitting across from Sue.

It struck him as unfair, the fact that in the midst of the worst professional crisis he'd ever experienced his hormones had been firing on all cylinders. _Maybe it's like acne in that you never really grow out of it,_ he thought with a rueful, hidden sneer; how else could he explain the lovestruck way in which he seemed to behave every time she was around_?_ But it was no use trying to rationalize the irrational: there had always been something about her that made his heart leap and his palms itch, and the more he fretted over the existential rights of his feelings for her, the more determined those feelings were to make his life a living hell.

Either way, he had been unable to eat; since the start of the OPR investigation, he'd probably eaten one full meal. Tonight, all he'd done was push forkful after forkful of pasta around on his plate in a vain attempt to make it look like he'd eaten more than he actually had.

The first time she'd taken him out had been to cheer him up; now, days later, she said it was time to celebrate. Jack still wasn't sure if there was, in fact, anything worth celebrating at all. After Angela Portman's murder, the lawsuit he'd been facing was inevitably put on hold; once they'd arrested Iyman Khalil, he was certain the case would be dropped. But there was still the pending investigation and its findings - the outcome of which he was completely uncertain - and after the events of this day, he was almost positive that more charges would be coming his way... .

_So much for celebration,_ he thought, dropping his fork to his plate and pushing the dish away from him.

"Jack...," Sue's tender voice broke through his reverie. "You should really eat something."

He looked up briefly and smiled as his eyes readjusted to sight without the hazy film of daydreams to cloud them. The smile Sue returned was sympathetic.

"Are you okay?" she asked him quietly.

Jack shrugged. "I guess I'm just not very good company tonight," he replied, his voice soft as he avoided eye contact.

"Well," Sue steepled her fingers above her own plate, "I will admit that I've been on better dates with microwave TV dinners and _Barney Miller _reruns... ."

Jack flicked his eyes up to meet hers, eyebrow raised. "Dates?"

Sue took a moment before beginning to blush furiously as she stuttered through an explanation. "Well, what I meant was... actually... ."

He smiled and let his eyes drop to the table. "It's okay," he nodded. "I know what you meant."

The sounds of the dinner crowd at Tosca were soft and intimate - the clinking of knives and forks against dishes, quiet candlelit conversation, the muted strains of Italian love songs on the restaurant's hi-fi - but somehow it all began to grate on Jack's few remaining nerves. He leaned back a bit in his seat and inconspicuously loosened his tie, hoping it would help ward off the sudden claustrophobia he was experiencing.

"At any rate, I know you're not okay and I wish you would talk to me," Sue continued.

He feigned puzzlement, even as he cursed his own inability to play his hand close, to pokerface his way through his own discomfort. He knew it wouldn't work on her, of all people, but he continued to press his luck nevertheless. "What do you mean, Sue?"

And she smiled with her eyes. "I might be deaf," she said, "But I can see that you're lying even if I can't hear it in your voice."

Jack glanced up and saw her eyeing him with more concern and consideration than he thought could ever show on anyone's face. The tenderness was affecting. His throat continued to tighten and he made a show of clearing it, taking a gulp of water. "I'm fine. Really," he said, masking the slight tremor in his voice by chuckling. "It's just been a... trying week."

_That's an understatement, _Jack sighed. Still, he smiled and tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, and kept it together just long enough for her to reach over and cover his hand with her own, stroking her thumb across his knuckles.

It was his undoing; he felt his eyes begin to tear up.

"Jack... ."

"I-I just...," he looked around, slightly panicked, and leaned forward in an effort to obscure his face and the emotion registered on it from the rest of the dinner patrons, from Sue herself, behind wine glasses and ornate pillars and within the dim smouldering halo of candlelight. Jack raised his free hand and cupped his chin, covering his mouth for a moment while he thought of the right words to say and regained his composure.

"I can't see what you're saying," she reminded him quickly, her voice whisper-soft but still louder than the chatter around them both.

"Sue," he said as he dropped his hand to the table, inhaling a fiercely shuddering breath. He didn't know where to start. The indignity of the lawsuit? The OPR investigation? The fact that he'd pulled a gun on two kids just that afternoon?

He groaned inwardly and choked on his words. "You know that Joni Mitchell song?" he croaked out finally. "The one about not knowing what you've got until it's gone?"

"Never heard it," Sue said, straight-faced. It took Jack a moment to realize she was teasing him.

"Right," he smiled, his voice thin, and Sue broke into a grin. "Well... I feel a little like that."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "The FBI is my life," he replied. "For better or for worse, it's a part of who I am. And I'm so close to losing everything because I did what I was taught to do, what I was _trained_ to do."

"You did the right thing, Jack," Sue said.

"Did I? Really?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think I was the one who pointed the business end of an assault rifle in the faces of a couple of kids today."

He felt the eyes of the table behind them boring into his skull as he slowly began losing his ability to stay in control.

Sue's grip on his hand tightened. "Jack, please calm down... you're scaring people." Her fingers flexed, squeezing his hand even tighter and holding him down. "You're scaring me."

He took a deep breath and saw the alarm in her eyes, and immediately his blood cooled. He closed his eyes and focused on relaxing his leg, which bounced up and down beneath the tabletop. Finally, he took another deep breath and a drink of water. "I'm sorry, Sue."

She waved over their waiter, motioning in the air for the check. "We'll go, okay?" she said. "We'll get you out in the air and we'll go for a walk and relax a bit. We can talk this through. It isn't impossible."

He scoffed. "Then why do I feel like there's nothing I can do?"

She continued to stroke his hand until the waiter returned with the check. Even as she signed the credit card receipt, her hand never left his.

* * *

It was warm, even for them; temperatures outside felt more like late spring than late winter. Consequently, the streets were filled with people, and Jack, Sue, and Levi had fought the throngs the entire way.

They eventually found refuge, sitting in silence on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial for a long while. Tourists around them posed and snapped pictures, gathering in family groups and tour groups marked out by their dress and languages.

_Happy in their obliviousness_, Jack thought.

In his years working in the District, Jack had spent many a long night walking in and around the Washington Mall. In his more fanciful moments, he pictured himself as a secret one-man security force, a dutiful sentry looking over the very symbols of the land he had sworn to protect; at the very least, he took pride in what he saw there. He didn't know how many people had asked him to take their photo, in front of the Washington Monument or one of the war memorials nearby, and he wondered how many times he'd been captured on film, walking through the background somewhere while someone else pressed the shutter. He was linked to this landscape - from the Jones Point Lighthouse in the South to the tip of Rock Creek Park in the North, from Capitol Heights in the East to Endicott Park in the West - whether he wanted to be or not.

And he wanted to be. But now, as he looked around him at the people and the flashbulbs, Jack felt nothing but the most intense envy. If they knew one-tenth of what he knew about the dangers that existed within the borders of the United States - within the borders of the very district in which they were standing! - he knew they wouldn't be so full of smiles. He'd been that way once, ignorant and carefree. It was so long ago now that he could scarcely remember it.

He did what he did so _they_ could continue as they were. He knew that. But in that moment, it was little consolation. He felt small, powerless, rendered impotent by the very people he was charged to protect, for doing the job he was asked to do.

The die was already cast; there was nothing for him to do but wait for the reveal.

With a sigh, Jack eventually turned to survey the crowd once more, reminding himself of the reasons he joined the FBI in the first place. The slowly encroaching darkness flooded the stairs in shadow while Lincoln looked down over them all.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Sue asked.

Jack had almost forgotten she was there. "What's that?"

She shrugged and scratched Levi's ear. "The Lincoln Memorial. I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

"Trust me," Jack smiled. "You won't. And if you manage to somehow, then there's something wrong."

She smiled and patted Levi's head. Jack laced his fingers together, balancing his elbows on his knees.

"I'm really sorry for the way I acted back there."

"Don't apologize. I understand."

Jack shook his head. "No, it was wrong. I should have reacted better." He looked down at his shoes. "I really didn't mean to scare you."

"Jack," Sue said. "Lips."

Jack turned to face her, supremely glad that his blush of embarrassment would be hidden by twilight. "I said I didn't mean to scare you."

She nodded. "I know you didn't."

Jack nodded again and directed his gaze out over the Reflecting Pool and the Washington Monument.

"I'm not a terrible guy."

"You don't have to convince me," Sue remarked, her eyes trained on his mouth. "I think you're wonderful."

"I'm human. I make mistakes."

"Everyone does."

"But the difference is that when I make mistakes, people could get hurt."

"You're very good at what you do, Jack," Sue rested a hand on his arm. "Very good."

_There's nothing in this world quite like a good woman's touch, Jack. _It was almost as if he could hear his father's voice, like the man was standing right there with him. He shivered under the pressure of her fingers, laid against his bicep, warming his skin underneath his suit jacket as if the jacket wasn't even there to separate her skin from his. He couldn't help but stare, taking in the sight of her hand and marveling at the feelings and thoughts she elicited from the very depths of his being. _How is it possible that someone can turn so many simple gestures into incredibly intimate ones?_ Jack wondered.

Sue continued to speak. "And I sleep better at night knowing that you're at work during the day, doing what you do. What you all do," she nodded, adding softly, "But what you do, especially."

He sighed, feeling that same lump forming in his throat. _If only I could convince them somehow... tell them that it wasn't intentional... that I was only doing my job... ._

"It's going to work itself out, Jack," Sue massaged her fingertips slightly into his skin; if Jack didn't know better, he would have used the word 'caress' to describe her touch at that moment. "I promise," she continued. "I promise that it'll be all right."

Jack wasn't sure about his job, the OPR investigation, whether or not the charges would be so serious that they would threaten his own freedom and potentially send him to prison. He didn't know how Iyman Khalil had managed to be filled up with such hatred; he didn't know if the children he'd frightened were going to be able to dream tonight. But he did know that the moment Sue had spoken, everything he'd been feeling since the beginning of his nightmare all but disappeared. He believed her, sincerely, wholeheartedly.

Sue was like a drug to which he was slowly becoming addicted, and her touch, her voice, was the catalyst.

So he breathed it out, let the anxiety and fear and crippling helplessness and hopelessness that pressed on his chest and his shoulders float away alongside her words, up towards the violet-streaked sky above. As he exhaled, a barely audible, strangled sob escaped his lips, and he looked away, overcome with embarrassment at his relatively wanton display of emotion. He was suddenly very glad Sue couldn't hear him.

_Here's your chance, _Jack told himself. _Say it now... tell her everything... ._

"Sue?"

"Jack... ."

Jack sputtered, startled out of his daze and into acting as normal as possible, while Sue chuckled. "You go first," he offered with a smile.

"No, it's okay."

"No, really, I insist."

Sue combed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and patted Levi. "I'm sorry... I was just wondering... would you mind walking us home?"

Jack exhaled slowly, smiling to himself as he looked down again at his shoes as he nodded, more to himself than in affirmation of her request. "Now?"

"I mean, it's getting late. Lucy will be wondering where I am, and Levi hasn't eaten."

"Of course," he nodded, looking directly at her as he spoke before lifting his hands to sign. "**No problem**."

He stood up and felt the blood rushing back to his legs and toes, flooding his body with warmth even as Sue's hand fell from his arm, taking her particular brand of warmth with her. He draped his jacket over his arm and reached down to help Sue to her feet. Then, with Levi at attention, they began their descent from the lofty heights of the memorial steps.

They found their stride by the last stair and walked in sync, step for step, along the pathways leading home. _I guess it wasn't meant to happen yet, _Jack mused with a small smile. _But you're not going anywhere, and neither is she. _It was a small comfort, he knew; they were walking along the streets and sidewalks that they'd walked a million times together and which always led to her front door far too quickly for his liking. Even if he were guaranteed a million years at her side, it would never be enough.

Sue cleared her throat as they reached the boundary of the Mall. "What was it you were going to say?"

Jack pressed the button to trigger the pedestrian 'Walk' signal and stepped back to her side on the street corner. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets as protection against a chilly northern breeze, he shrugged and smiled. "Nothing, really," was his simple reply. "Except thank you."

"For what?"

_For dinner? For understanding? For everything? _Jack wanted to say the words, but nothing came out. When the 'Walk' signal shone into the street, Levi tugged Sue forward. Jack timed his steps so they fell alongside her own, even though it meant shortening his own stride.

It was the least he could do.


	4. Lovely Tonight

**I really want to thank you all for the reviews and your encouragement! I'm having so much fun with this story! Thanks for sticking with me! :)

[Chapter soundtrack: "Lovely Tonight" by Joshua Radin and Ingrid Michaelson]**

* * *

- 4 -

Lovely Tonight

"Jack...," Sue sighed, taking time to consider what she should say, "You were right about Tony. I was wrong. And I'm sorry I sided with him instead of you."

Jack exhaled and looked to the pavement beneath his feet. He hated moments like this, moments where the phrase _"I told you so"_ could do so much damage. Moments when a phrase like that was the only one threatening to spill from his lips. He bit his tongue to keep it still and studied her, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't sound spiteful, or corny, or simply trite.

Sue beat him to the punch. "So do we need to talk about it anymore or is that enough?"

It was his turn to sigh. Of course he wanted to talk about it. He wanted nothing more than to lay into her for being so stupid, for falling for a guy like Tony, for being able to read the lips of a man two hundred feet and one very choppy digital video feed away from her but being completely unable to see through the smarmy antics of a talentless jerk from L.A. with a leather jacket and more grease in his hair than in Sue's and his cars _combined_ and... .

_How can you let yourself be charmed by that, _Jack wanted to ask. _Why do you look at him and look right through me?_

But he didn't say any of that. He couldn't. There was so much stopping him, the events of the past few days with Tony providing more than enough by way of roadblocks without considering over two years of working together and a million other missed opportunities suspended between the two of them. Anything he said now would look bad. Jack wasn't about to turn what was already an embarrassing misstep on Sue's part into a lay-bare-your-soul, _Lifetime _movie-of-the-week moment. Especially since Sue had made it so abundantly clear that she was more attracted to brawn than brain, and at the moment, Jack felt he had neither in abundance.

So bemused, frustrated, slightly annoyed, but still glad that she had come around, Jack smiled, swallowing the words he had in his mouth. "It's enough for me," he said, "Unless there's something you want to talk about?"

She shook her head. "No, not really...," she spoke, pausing, "Unless there's something you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Okay... ."

_So that's that, _he thought, as he tripped through the rest of the conversation on autopilot. His mouth moved independently, hitting all the right notes, while his mind whirred and hummed, thinking of all he would have said if the timing had been right.

_Just let it go, Jack_, he ordered himself. _Just let it go._

So he did, smiling and joking about Levi and agreeing to pizza for dinner. Sue offered to buy, an offer Jack could do nothing but graciously accept since his wallet was in the pocket of his jacket, which hung on the back of a chair in his dining room, which he'd forgotten in his rush to leave to go jogging. _It's pathetic,_ he reprimanded himself. _You rushed out the door in order to 'bump into' Sue, and when you __do_ _bump into Sue, you can't do anything because you forgot you wallet in your rush to bump into Sue! _

It was idiotic on more than a few levels. Jack hoped Sue didn't notice his blush of embarrassment.

"S'good pizza," Jack said through a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese.

Sue picked a piece of ham off the top of her slice and dropped her hand, offering the morsel to Levi, who eagerly lapped it up. "I've always liked it."

"Seems we always end up at a pizza place," he remarked.

"There are worse places, you know," she grinned. "McDonald's, maybe."

Jack made a face, "Or that _awful _greasy spoon out in Georgetown."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Sue grimaced. "Worst burger ever."

"At least you didn't sample their poutine," Jack shivered in remembrance.

It was Sue's turn to shiver. "Poutine in general. Cheese curds...," she made another face. "How can you eat that stuff?"

Jack stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face her in mock indignation. "Bashing cheese of any kind in the presence of a Wisconsinite is tantamount to treason, Thomas."

She laughed. "I'm sorry, I forgot," she shrugged, "Blessed are the cheesemakers and all that... ."

Jack did a double-take. "I'm sorry, did you just say 'Blessed are the cheesemakers?'"

Sue nodded. "_Life of Brian_, Jack. You should rent it sometime. I hear it's pretty good."

_My god, _Jack felt his heart skip a beat. _She's a Monty Python fan to boot... . _He shook his head to clear his thoughts and rejoined her, side-by-side. "You're a fascinating woman, has anyone ever told you that?"

Sue paused before shaking her head. "No. I've been called a lot of things, but never fascinating."

"Well it's about time someone said it," Jack smiled, lifting the paper pizza sleeve to his mouth and taking a bite out of the dangling end of his slice.

"Jack?"

He turned to her then, food in mouth, and raised his eyebrows. _What a sight you must be_, he thought, sheepishly chewing through the crust and lowering the paper plate while, at the same time, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand.

"Do you ever wish you hadn't...," she trailed off, shaking her head as she turned away from him and picked up her pace. "Never mind."

Jack reached his hand out and grasped her by the elbow. "Sue," he said as his hand made contact. Sue stopped and looked over her shoulder at him before turning back around. "What is it?" he asked finally, when he was sure she could see him.

She smiled. "I'm being silly. It's nothing."

He ignored it. "Do I ever wish I hadn't... _what_?"

"Oh boy...," she blew out a breath, biting her lower lip and casting her eyes heavenward. "Jack, I wonder sometimes if I belong... here... in the FBI."

Jack shook his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She looked at him, a mixture of shame and sadness evident in the depths of her eyes, and it dawned on him. His throat closed and he felt as though his stomach dropped out from under him. Sue wouldn't look at him; her eyes darted around, from light pole to light pole to fluorescent store signs to the far-reaching branches of an elm tree high above them. He wanted to talk, but he knew she wouldn't see him speak; he knew she was avoiding him on purpose.

Jack tossed what was left of his pizza into the trash can beside him and reached over, placing his hand on her upper arm, holding her steady. With his other hand, he gently touched his index finger to her chin, turning her face towards him. When her eyes met his, tears crouched just above her lower lashes. His heart splintered.

"Susan Thomas, I _do not_ regret asking you to join our team. Do you understand me?"

Sue blinked. "Because of me, _you_ got shot. Because of me, _Levi_ got shot. I've put the team in danger I don't know how many times, because I'm impulsive and reckless...," her breath began to hitch in her throat, "I'm... I'm... ."

Jack drew her towards him and enveloped her in his arms. "Sue," he cooed, knowing she couldn't hear him but hoping she'd feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest, the warmth of his breath on her ear. She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed. He didn't really know what to do - this had been the one thing that terrified him more than anything before he'd joined the FBI. He'd been horrible in the past whenever girlfriends or girl friends had come to him with a problem and tears in their eyes - or worse yet, with runny mascara; Jack had always been meticulous about his clothing and slightly OCD about stains. His reaction was always to freeze and hope that, like the Tyrannosaurus rex, they'd miss him and move on to the next target. But somehow he had always ended up being the arms that they came to, and despite all the practice, he hadn't mastered the art of calming down a crying woman.

This time, the powerful motivating factor that was his affection for Sue kept him from giving up; trepidation had indeed rooted his feet to the pavement, but an instinct kicked in that he'd never experienced before. _If I were in her shoes, _he asked himself, _what would I want?_ So Jack did just that, matching his breath to hers, breathing in and out along with her, hoping the repetition would have the effect on her that it had on him when his mother had done this for him as s a child. Jack stroked Sue's back the way his mother had done his; he continued to whisper words she wouldn't hear, just as his mother had done for him; and as Sue's hysteria subsided, he was washed in relief, not only for having waded through the crisis unscathed, but also for the fact that Sue was okay.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"It's nothing," he lied.

Sue stepped back and ran her fingers underneath her eyes, catching glistening tears on her fingertips. "They were right, you know."

"Who was?"

"All those kids in school who said I couldn't do it. They were right."

Jack, riding high on his victory, held her at arm's length, looking into her eyes. "What brought all this on?"

She rolled her eyes. "Everyone knew about Tony, Jack. Every single person on the team could see through him," she said. "What am I doing in the FBI if I can't even pick the good guys from the bad?"

Jack sighed. _So that's what this is about_, he thought. _I should have figured._ "Even the best of us sometimes see only what we want to see, not what's actually there."

Sue scoffed. "Yeah. I'm sure you've let yourself be driven to distraction by what you want to see... ."

Jack considered her for a moment. He remembered all the times Sue's safety had been his primary concern, above the team's, above his own. _You have no idea, Sue, how many nights I've stared at the ceiling questioning my right to carry this badge, or how often have I wondered if my attraction to you has clouded my judgment... ._

"I fell for the first guy who looked at me and saw more than just a deaf girl," she continued. "I let that get in the way of logic and reason and common sense and... ."

Jack did a quick double-take. "Wait. What do you mean, 'the first guy to look at you'?"

Sue shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Well, Jack... I'm not exactly beating suitors away with a stick, am I?"

It registered then just what had tumbled from his lips. He didn't know at first, and then couldn't believe, that those words were the ones he'd blurted out; of all the self-esteem building he could have done, he had to fixate on the part of her confession that directly related to _him_, the way _he_ looked at her, the way _he_ felt about her... even though he was so far from being ready to tell her as much.

Jack cleared his throat. "Well, what I meant was... what about...," _Don't say Dog Park Boy... Don't say Dog Park Boy_, he swallowed."Umm...David? Wh-what about David?"

"David's been out of the picture for a long time."

"I know," Jack said - even though he didn't. "I just mean... well, _he_ looked at you, didn't he? And _he_ saw past the 'deaf girl' right?"

"I suppose," Sue said, "But with David it was... he was just so...," she bit her lip. "David was a boy, you know?"

Jack's face fell. "So what was Tony?"

Sue was silent as she considered the question in light of her previous statement about David Palmer. "Tony was...," she shrugged. "A man."

Jack didn't know how to take those statements; with any other girl, he would necessarily assume certain things based on descriptions like that. With Sue, he was reasonably sure that she and Tony had never gotten beyond surface pleasantries. But it still startled him, the force with which his thoughts blindsided him, the feeling in his chest like someone had dropped a bowling ball on his ribcage. It wasn't that he _couldn't _imagine that she'd been with another man - she was an attractive woman, and even though she was a very spiritual person, he knew that didn't always mean what everyone thought it meant, and that Sue had many years and ample opportunity to educate herself on the subject if she'd wanted to. No, he could imagine it just fine. But it was almost as if he didn't _want _to.

Swallowing was becoming painful; Jack felt as though he were trying to digest glass.

"But I know that Tony was married, that he had children. Doing what he did is not a very 'manly' thing, if you ask me. He should have been truthful." She sighed, wiping her eyes again; the night air had cooled and her words came out in little puffs, speech bubbles suspended in between them.

"I don't know, Jack... I've only been on a small handful of dates, with an even smaller handful of guys. Men _and _boys. And nobody ever made me feel as special as Tony did. To know it was all a lie is... ."

Jack had to do something.

"You're lovely, Sue."

She stopped, considered him. "Excuse me?"

Jack coughed. "You're... lovely," he repeated, thickly. "You're... a f-fantastic member of our team, you're great at what you do. You're smart. You're talented. You're kind and caring. You're... ."

Sue looked at him, expectantly and confused. "Yes?"

"You're just... lovely," he said, looking down at his feet as he crushed a leaf with the toe of his shoe and ground it into the pavement. "I just thought you should know that."

Sue reached over and took Jack by the hand, catching his eyes as he looked up at her. She smiled, truly, for the first time all night. "**Thank you**," she said and signed at the same time, animating her face; he knew she meant it. "That means a lot to me coming from you."

"**You're welcome**," Jack signed back. He mouthed the words, but his throat was dry and nothing came out. _It's for the better_, he resigned himself to the thought.

They stood on the sidewalk, less than a block away from the pizza place, and stared at each other, the ground beneath their feet, the people passing on the sidewalk. When Sue turned her body a bit, Levi sprang to attention and they began to walk again; the moment was over. Jack had gotten half way there.

The rest would have to wait.


	5. Closer

**No preamble this time. Just story - and a long one this time! Enjoy the fuzzies!

I hope I got the fingerspelling-in-the-dark part right... I couldn't really find any great info on how it's done... correct me if I'm wrong, pleaseandthankyou! :)

Takes place after 3.07, "Simon Says"

[Chapter soundrtrack: "Closer" by Joshua Radin]**

* * *

- 5 -

Closer

Jack _shushed _the door closed behind him and quickly bolted it shut before dropping Sue's bags down on the hardwood floor. Levi jumped at the sound but recovered quickly, sitting quietly beside Sue, who herself stood with statue-like stillness in the narrow entry hallway of Jack's apartment. She looked foreign, out of place; like she didn't belong and knew it. _Everything's changed_, Jack realized, his gut sinking. _Simon has changed everything... ._

He quickly shrugged off his own jacket and moved to help Sue remove hers. The touch of his hand on her shoulder made her jump, and Levi bolted to attention. Jack groaned inwardly, feeling stupid for not getting her attention first. He stepped around and made sure he had eye contact before signing, "**Sorry**."

"It's okay," she whispered.

"Can I take your coat?" he asked.

She, too, shrugged her shoulders and slid her red coat off and into her hands. Jack took it from her, and she smiled, but it was vacant. Empty. Sue folded her arms tightly across her chest and made herself as small as possible and Levi whimpered at her side.

Jack returned from the closet and slowly stepped into Sue's line of sight. "You haven't eaten yet. You must be starved."

She shook her head. "I'm not. Thanks."

"Are you tired?"

"No."

"Would you like to sit down?"

She nodded, and Jack stepped aside and into his living room, where he switched on the overhead light and gestured to the brown leather sofa and loveseat in front of the television. "Sit wherever. The bathroom is down the hall," he pointed, feeling stupid as he brought his hand back to his side - _She can see the damn hallway!_ - "It's the first door on the left. You can take the bed tonight. Just opposite the bathroom. On the right." _Smooth, Jack... real smooth._ "Just... make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks."

"If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen... phone call," he said, making a crude sign for 'phone' that he was fairly certain wasn't the proper ASL sign at all. She understood nonetheless, giving him a patient nod and blinking her eyes closed before turning back to the room. Jack backed away as quietly as he could, hoping his utter embarrassment wasn't showing on his face but knowing she wasn't watching anyway.

He was at a complete loss. Two hours had passed since the incident at Sue's apartment. Nobody could expect that things would be normal right away. It had affected everyone. Lucy had been inconsolable upon hearing the news that Simon had been there, in their apartment, and they hadn't noticed; Bobby felt personally responsible, since he was one of the arresting agents at the museum, when they'd taken down the red-headed decoy set up by Simon in the first place. Myles, too, had seemed particularly affected on the phone, when Jack had called to let him know that he'd shot the real Simon, and that someone - _"Not me," _Jack had said,_ "Because if I see the bastard again wild horses wouldn't be able to keep me from tearing him apart!" _at which point Myles mustered up all the conviction he had in his body to utter the words _"I know, Jack. Me too." _- had to conduct the official interrogation and finish up the paperwork to close the file, a job which Myles wholeheartedly agreed to take on.

Even Demetrius - calm, cool, and collected Agent Gans - reeled from the news that they'd arrested the wrong man and that Bobby, Lucy, and Jack had inadvertently left Sue alone with someone who had been teasing, taunting, and playing with her for weeks. At the first opportunity, upon arriving at the scene, Demetrius had enveloped Sue in such an embrace that Jack thought he'd never let her go.

And that was how he'd felt, too, in the moments after the shooting. He never - _ever _- wanted to let her go.

She was still standing there, unsure - it seemed - about how to move. Jack picked up his phone and pressed Bobby's speed dial number. His friend picked up on the first ring.

"What's up, Jack? Everything all right?" Bobby asked immediately.

"I was just going to ask you the same question."

"Don't worry about us, mate."

Jack's weariness was unavoidable. "What else would have me do?"

Bobby was silent. "How's our Sue doin'?"

Jack shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I guess."

"Right, right...," he trailed off. "I don't suppose you're still at her place?"

"No," Jack replied. "She didn't want to stay. I don't blame her.

"No one would," Bobby offered. "So... you're at a hotel or...?"

"We're at my place," Jack said, clearing his throat and moving on to the next topic. "How's Luce?"

"Fine," Bobby perked up. "Just left Tara's, actually. Lucy was in dire straits, though I suppose she should be sleeping by now. I think Tara gave her enough sleeping pills to knock out a small elephant."

Jack chuckled weakly, in spite of himself. "The non-narcotic kind, I hope."

"Right-o," Bobby was grinning.

"And Myles? Have you talked to him since I did?"

Bobby sighed. "He's fine. He's hard at work as we speak, and I'll be meeting him in a few. And before you even ask, Demetrius had already started cleaning up the rest of the mess we made with the wrong arrest and all that."

"He's the best at the bureaucratic red tape end of things," Jack muttered. "That reminds me, Sue's apartment'll need cleaning." The ripped sofa cushion... the spilled and broken vase from the hall table... the blood on the carpet and the way Sue had been staring at the stain... all of it flashed through his mind. He shook his head to banish the thoughts.

"It'll be taken care of, first thing tomorrow morning."

The real question Jack wanted to ask sat on his tongue like lead. He gritted his teeth and forced his lips to part. "And Simon?" The very name slid out of his mouth, acidic and venomous; he actually thought he heard it hit the floor and slither away, tainting the room he stood in and the room where Sue was and contaminating the whole of their world and everything in it. Jack felt like throwing up.

"In hospital. Stable condition. He'll pull through beautifully for his trial...," Bobby paused for effect, "and the nice, long stay in federal prison we're gonna serve up at the end of it."

Jack leaned back on the counter. "So what you're telling me is...?"

"Look, mate... I'm only gonna ask you this once. It's a biggie, though. Huge. Biggest favour in the history of favours," Bobby said. "I'm gonna need you to take a backseat on this one. You can't micromanage it like you do all the others."

"I know, Bobby, it's just... ."

"We got him, Sparky. We're gonna put him away for the rest of his natural life. The AUSA's office is unlikely to consider your actions as anything other than a line-of-duty weapon discharge completely within the limits of your responsibilities as a federal agent, and considering the circumstances... well...," Bobby said. "You did your job and you did it well."

"I know."

"D gave you tomorrow off. Why don't you use it? Take a breather. Rent a movie or something. Go for a drive. See if anyone's scalping tickets for the Caps preseason game tomorrow night."

"Yeah."

Bobby sighed, audibly, and Jack winced in anticipation of his friend's response. "You're not going to do any of those things, are you?"

"No."

Bobby sounded only slightly disappointed. "Yeah, well I figured as much-."

"Sue's here."

"You said that already."

"What should I do?"

There was a long pause. "You know what I think you should do?"

"What?"

"I mean, I know that the two of you thrive on words unspoken... ."

Bobby had a way with words, and Jack knew the Aussie agent was right without him having to say another word. "I know, Bobby."

"Then do something about it," he said. "Take care of her. She's gonna need a friend tonight."

Jack rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I know."

"Now...," Bobby was grinning again - Jack could hear it in his voice. "Get thee to bed, good sir. We'll call you _if _we need you. But until you hear from us, consider thineself banishéd from the bullpen!"

Jack smiled at his friend's attempt at being witty and Shakespearean. He said his goodnights and hung up the phone, resting it on the counter beside his hand as he leaned back and considered his next move.

_Words unspoken..._ . Bobby's assessment of the situation was as spot-on as it could ever have been. _And Bobby's not the sharpest knife in the drawer when it comes to the subtleties of human relationships_, Jack thought. _If he can see it... who else can?_

Jack rubbed his eyes again, feeling the weight of the day settling into the grooves in his shoulders. He shuffled into the living room, expecting to see Sue and surprised to find the room empty. But he wasn't worried; Levi was curled up at the end of couch, blissfully unaware of anything. Jack smiled. Sue's service dog was always on alert and never took a break, except when Jack was around. Even with Lucy or Tara, Levi was still always at attention. The fact that his presence was the one that put Levi at ease was point of pride for Jack. It was as if Levi knew that Jack would handle it, whatever 'it' was, and that was enough for him.

Jack opened his mouth and took a breath, preparing to call out her name. But he caught himself before he did and shook his head. The lights in the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom were on; he assumed she was readying for bed.

_Maybe I should check on her_, Jack thought.

He started down the hallway, ostensibly to find an extra blanket and pillow for the couch, and passed the empty bathroom on the way. But as he rounded the corner to his bedroom, he saw Sue, silhouetted by his bedside lamp, changing for bed, and quickly averted his eyes. She hadn't seen him, or if she had, she didn't let on. He felt his face burning with embarrassment, and yet his eyes didn't stay focused on the ground.

He saw her, in his peripheral, with her back to him as she unbuttoned her blue dress shirt. He couldn't help but be drawn to her, her fluid movements like ink in water as she shrugged her shoulders and let the shirt fall to the floor beside his bed. He watched, fascinated the by the delicate slope of those shoulders and the way her hair, illuminated incandescently, shone like burnished gold; the porcelain softness of her skin and the way the light in the room seemed to both light her and emanate from _within _her at the same; the line of her backbone and the exquisite way her muscles contracted to hold her upright as she lifted her arms to let a diaphanous white t-shirt, two sizes too big, fall down over head.

_My god_, Jack thought to himself. It was almost unendurable, the affection and longing he felt as he watched the object of his desire getting dressed at his bedside. His heart ached to protect her... to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her, to possess her and have her possess him.

She sat back down on the edge of the bed and produced a small bottle of moisturizer, and as she began to apply to her arms and face, Jack finally felt his voyeurism had reached its limit and he turned and went to his sparse linen closet to find what he needed to sleep.

When he closed the door, he noticed he was in Sue's eyesight as she appeared to study the armchair in the corner of his room; his movement caught her eye and she looked up, smiling faintly.

"That's an Eames chair," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Right," he replied, astonished. "How did you...?"

She grazed her hand over the Brazilian rosewood and the buttery soft leather that made up the upholstery. "My grandfather was an industrial designer. He owned two of them - one for him and one for my grandma," she smiled again. "He told me once that there hadn't been a better chair produced in America in the history of chair production."

"I think I would have liked your grandfather," Jack smiled.

"You would have," she nodded. "Why don't you have this in the living room? I mean, most people own a chair like this in order to show it off."

Jack made a face, "I've never been big on conspicuous consumption," he replied simply. "Honestly, the chair was willed to me and I always thought it suited this room better."

Sue glanced around her at the furnishings in the room and nodded approvingly. "I agree. I think Grandpa would have too."

Jack grinned. Neither one of them said anything else. It wasn't the most awkward silence but it wasn't comfortable; Jack wondered what Sue was thinking as her eyes darted from the bedspread to the dresser to the nightstand and back to him, and while his own mind stayed locked on the image of the tiny muscles in her lower back holding her spine in place... .

"Is there anything else you need?" Jack asked, his mouth sticky and dry. "I mean, i-is there anything I can get you?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm fine. Thank you."

"All right. Well, I'll be in the living room if you need me," he said, adding with a grin. "That's ten steps away. No more, I promise. Okay?"

She pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay."

"See you in the morning, then."

"Yeah," she nodded. "See you in the morning."

Jack nodded too. He took a step back and turned on his heel. But he had barely made it half a step away from the door when he heard her voice calling him back.

"Jack?"

He peered in through the doorway. It struck him how small she looked, swallowed by the t-shirt, in a pair of blue fleece pants that obscured her toes from sight. She folded her arms across her chest - just as they'd been in the entryway before - just like a child might hold her arms during a tantrum; the only thing missing was the teddy bear. He felt like crying for her.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," she admitted.

"Okay." He didn't know what that meant, or what he was agreeing to; he just knew that it was better to go along with it than not to. _Take care of her_. That had been Bobby's directive.

"I don't want...," she bit her lip, and when she looked over at the bed and then back to him, he saw the telltale glisten in the corners of her eyes. He took a step forward.

"Are **you** **okay**?"

Sue shook her head as she lowered it, her hair obscuring her face. Jack crossed the room, set the extra blanket and pillow he was still carrying down on the Eames chair, and touched her arm.

"Sue."

She broke down; inhaling sharply, her face contorting as she sobbed, the words sputtered out: "It was just so... ."

Sue folded into him, and his arms went around her, like they were both part of the same mechanism, operating from the same gears. He stroked her back, held her tightly against his chest, and she gripped his shirt - it still smelled like gunpowder, he realized - and cried against him.

"It's okay, Sue," he spoke to no one. "It's okay."

"I thought that was it...," she pulled away from him, her eyes frantic. "He put the scarf around my neck and I thought... and if you hadn't come back... ."

The panicked look in her eyes made him uneasy; he didn't know how to be strong for her when the fear of losing her was so visceral it made him hurt all over. But he steeled himself, cupping her face in his hands as he shook his head. "Don't think about that," he instructed. "You'll drive yourself crazy thinking about that."

"If you hadn't forgotten your phone, Jack...," she cried. "If you hadn't forgotten your phone... ."

He pulled her back into his embrace and rocked her back and forth, his hand rubbing her back and smoothing her hair as he wished he could do more.

"I can't be alone tonight, Jack," she said. "I just can't."

He smoothed his hand across her back to let her know that he understood, and moments later, he pulled back the covers on the bed for her to get in. Drawing the blankets up around her chin, she clasped her hands together; Jack covered them with his own. "I'll be right back," he told her, and she blinked, as if nodding in assent.

In a bewildered, dreamlike trance, Jack set about tidying up the apartment. He changed for bed first, brushing his teeth and giving his face a rinse. He aligned the remote controls for the TV, the cable box, and the entertainment centre on the coffee table, next to the TV Guide, and began turned out the lights, room by room, until he was faced with the prospect of getting into bed with Sue and realized he couldn't ignore it any longer.

The warm light spilled into the hallway, like butter on hot toast, seeping into the pits and divots of the old hardwood and running over his bare toes. He was acutely aware of the sound of his feet slapping the floorboards and caught himself trying to be quiet, for Sue's sake, before realizing he didn't have to worry. She seemed to sense his presence anyway and rolled over to face him.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" he asked.

"This," she gestured. "If you think it's inappropriate... ."

"Sue...," he shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed, turning to face her. "I don't. I understand."

She settled back against the pillows. He noticed her hands were shaking as she combed her hair behind her ears; her lip trembled as she spoke. "When I close my eyes, all I can see... ."

He leaned forward and put his finger to her lips. She nodded, and he pulled the covers back on his side to climb in beside her. "It doesn't matter. This is me. You're here with me. remember that."

"What if I can't sleep?" she asked.

"Then I won't sleep either."

"Jack... ."

He smiled at her, and she snuggled down further under the blankets, resting her head on the pillow. Jack moved to turn out the light but realized that, without the lights on, it would be impossible for them to talk.

As if reading his mind, Sue looked over at him. "You don't have to keep the light on for my sake."

"Really?"

She nodded, and Jack leaned over and pulled the chain, plunging the room into virtual darkness. Moonlight streamed in through the slats in the window blinds, casting shadows and illuminating his furniture from odd angles, marking them off as strange, different, indeterminate. Jack waited for a long while until his eyes adjusted, until he could see Sue's form under the blankets beside him, could recognize the shape of her hip and the bend of her knee in the play of light and shadow, before he made the first move to crawl further under the blankets and get comfortable, readying himself for sleep.

As soon as he'd laid his head on the pillow and tucked the blankets up under his arms, he felt Sue turn over to face him. Within seconds, she had curled up beside him, and with what he could only describe later as some kind of instinctive response, he lifted his arm and allowed her to scoot up under it, resting her head on his chest. Timidly, she snuggled into him. Jack dropped his arm around her shoulder, amazed at the way she just seemed to _fit._

"Give me your hand," she said, her voice soft as spider's silk.

So he did, lifting his right hand and bringing it across his chest to where he assumed her hands were. She grasped his hand and held it for a moment until she draped it over hers and he felt her beginning to sign.

"**T-H-A-N-K**... thank... **Y-O-U**... you," she said.

Jack didn't know how to respond, and until Sue covered his hand with hers, he lay perfectly still. He racked his brain, attempting to stay one step ahead of his fingers as he began to spell out his response. "**Y-O-U A-R-E W-E-L-C-O-M-E**," he spelled, slowly, before saying it out loud out of habit. "You're welcome."

"I can feel the vibrations of your voice," she said. "I wish I knew what you sounded like."

With his hand still covered by hers, he began to spell again. "**S-O D-O I**."

She placed her hands flat on his chest, and once again, Jack marveled at how easily she had turned the moment into one of such incredible intimacy. _How do you do it, Sue Thomas? How do you make me fall in love with you over and over again each day?_

Sue found the right fit, the perfect spot for her head to rest, just beneath Jack's chin. All he could smell was her shampoo. "Good night, Jack," she whispered.

Jack pursed his lips and kissed the top of her forehead. He wondered if he'd crossed a line. Suddenly, he just didn't care. _I almost lost you today... _he thought, looking down the line of his nose towards her. _I almost lost two and a half years of friendship and the chance to tell you exactly how I feel... ._

"I love you," he mouthed the words, carefully, his voice barely a whisper, to keep it from resonating in the hollow of his ribcage, just beneath Sue's ear.


	6. The Myth of Us

**Here it is folks: the final chapter. This is the sub-titular "One Time He Did." Thank you so much for sticking with me, and I hope this meets your expectations!

[Chapter songtrack: "The Myth of Us" by Joshua Radin"]

* * *

- 6 -

The Myth of Us

Jack sat on the edge of his desk, watching the scene unfolding. Tara was practicing her signing with Lucy and Amanda; Myles and Bobby were engrossed in a conversation about the best type of donut; Demetrius, the last one to finish the coffee, was struggling to brew a new pot while balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder.

And then there was Sue, standing beside him, watching it all unfold too. It was her party, a going away/welcome back celebration that he had been as much a surprise for him as it was for her, but he wondered if it mattered at all anymore. She was staying. What more could he ask for?

The lump in his throat that had been there since he saw her come out of the stairwell that morning threatened to close in on him, and he felt his eyes tearing up. There was nothing for it. He turned with a smile and looked out the slatted blinds behind his desk.

_Why didn't you say it? _he cursed himself.

_Because you can't. Because you work together. Because you're still her training agent. _

_Because... ._

_Enough._

Jack drew a breath in and coughed as an excuse to blink his eyes and wipe the tears away. He smiled as he stood up from his desk and nodded to Lucy and Tara and Amanda perched on the other side; he ignored the glances from Bobby and Myles. He didn't even dare look at Sue.

"D," he said quietly, "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure Jack," Demetrius replied. "What's on your mind?"

"Not here."

Demetrius looked around, perplexed. "Okay."

"Conference room?"

"Sure," the affable older man replied.

Jack blazed out of the office, with Demetrius in tow. He didn't stop until he reached the wood-paneled conference room and shut the door behind them both.

"Is everything all right, Jack?"

"I can't do this anymore, D."

"Can't do what?"

Jack barreled forward. "I can't sit at _that_ desk and know that _she's_ sitting five feet away from me and not be able to _do anything_ about it, and as much as it _killed_ me to know that she was moving to New York, at least it would have meant we could have a _shot _at whatever it is we've been dancing around for _three years_, but now that she's _staying_ I just don't know... ."

"Jack, what are you talking about?"

Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Demetrius... either you have to transfer me, or I'm going to resign from the FBI."

Demetrius's eyes widened and he sat back against the edge of the oak table in the centre of the room.

"I'm asking you to do this because I'm in love with Sue."

The acting supervisor's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"And... if working with her means I can't be with her, then I'm... I'm asking you to make sure I don't work with her because... uh...," Jack took another breath, "Because I can't _not _be with her... ."

"Jack, I'm not sure you understand...," Demetrius began.

"No, I know what I'm doing. I know the FBI's policies and I know where it all leaves Sue and I. And I know I'm putting my neck out on the possibility that she doesn't feel the same, but I'm telling you, if I don't at least _try_... ."

"No, Jack, you don't understand the policy," Demetrius said.

"What?"

Demetrius stifled a chuckle; it bled out into a smile anyway, and he lowered his head to hide it. "Jack... there is no policy of non-fraternization. There never has been."

Jack stared at Demetrius. "Excuse me?"

Demetrius was considering what to say. "It's a guideline at best. Something to consider. Some supervisors frown upon that kind of thing. I mean, if you were married to your partner and involved in some high-stakes undercover operation, it could pose certain dangers and risks that could jeopardize the team or the case you were working on," he explained with a casual shrug. "But as an official policy, it doesn't exist."

"A... g-guideline?" Jack felt the hoarseness in his voice.

"Yeah," Demetrius answered simply.

"A guideline."

Demetrius nodded, amused by the whole thing.

"So you're telling me...?"

"I'm telling you that you and your friends in the bullpen should be novelists because you write some crazy stories." He laughed, "Actually, I blame Hollywood. They're always making this stuff up."

Jack felt his face flush. _All those years... . _His legs began to wobble, and he reached around for a chair to sink into.

"Maybe I should have told you, but I didn't know it was even an issue until I overheard Myles talking with Lucy and Tara. Honestly, Jack. Otherwise I would have cleared this up years ago."

"Why didn't you...?"

"Because I thought, with Sue leaving...," Demetrius shrugged again. "The door would be open either way."

Jack blinked his eyes a few times.

Demetrius pushed himself up from the table. "As acting supervisor of this unit, I'm telling you now: I have no problem. And as your friend," he clapped his hand on Jack's shoulder. "I'm telling you that if you _don't_ tell Sue how you feel, I will. You're _killing_ us."

Jack laughed, but it was strangled in his throat. He smiled up at Demetrius. "Thanks... ."

"Now I'm going back to the party. My coffee's cold and I'm pretty sure I didn't press the 'Brew' button on the machine for a new pot," he said. "Was there anything else you needed to talk about?"

Jack shook his head, staring blankly ahead at the wall opposite him.

Demetrius chuckled to himself. "Good. I'll see you back there."

Jack was aware of the door opening and closing again, and felt the stillness of the room settling around him. There was no non-fraternization policy. He had been beating himself up for three years over his feelings when there was absolutely no reason to do so. And to top it all off, he didn't know how he felt about it at all. On one hand, he was supremely relieved; his relationship with Sue - whatever that relationship was or would become - was not against any rules. He had no reason to hide how he felt anymore.

_Not that you did a good job of that to begin with_, he thought to himself, so sure was he that if Demetrius knew - _And don't forget Bobby -_ so did everyone else.

But on the other hand, he wondered if Sue knew the truth. A terrible feeling washed over him that she had known all along, and that her silence on the subject of his now obvious advances was really a sign that she wasn't interested.

_What have I been doing?_

That lump in his throat began to swell again and this time, with no one around and considering the revelations of the last few minutes, he succumbed to the overwhelming emotion. There was nothing to hold him back; years of frustration and stress bubbled to the surface. He choked on a sob and furiously dug the heel of his hand into his eye socket to stem the flow of tears.

"Jack?"

Startled, Jack sucked back the last sob and composed himself so quickly even he was amazed. As fast as the tears had come on, they ceased; using the sleeve of his black sweater, he mopped the dampness from his cheeks and took a deep breath in before turning around.

Sue stood in the half-opened doorway, alone. Silhouetted as she was, even by the fluorescent hallway bulbs, she looked like an angel. She still had her scarf around her neck.

For all his efforts, the tears came right back. "Sue," he said, his voice cracking as a single tear escaped and spilled over his lower lashes, falling to his pant leg. He hoped she hadn't seen it.

"Your absence was... conspicuous," she said with a smile. "Is everything okay?"

Jack made a show of pretending. "Yeah, you know... ."

"No, I don't," she said, stepping into the room. She reached out and shut the door behind her. "You're crying."

"Well," he said, but he couldn't think of anything to say beyond that.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was staying," she said. "But you didn't really give me a chance to. I tried... ."

"I know," he nodded, standing up and straightening out his shirt.

"Is that why you're upset? Because I didn't tell you?"

"No," Jack chuckled. "Of course not."

"Then...?"

"Sue?"

"Yes Jack?"

He sighed and looked down at his hands. "What I tried to say in the hallway...," he could only sigh again. "I've been trying to say it for years and every time I get close, I chicken out."

"What?" she asked.

"I wanted to tell you after I had my heart attack," he said. "And again after we went undercover during the Vanderwylen sting. And _again _after I...," he shook his head, feeling more tears clouding his voice, "...after _we _almost lost you... and a million times in between."

"What did you want to tell me?" she asked again, taking a step closer to him.

"You see, Sue, it's been so difficult because you're so... well, you're a tremendous asset to this team and, uh... I didn't want to jeopardize your role... or mine... as your training agent."

Sue stood patiently, but her face suggested she thought he wasn't making any sense. He gritted his teeth and mined for the words as he stared at the floor an inch in front of the toe of Sue's shoe.

"This isn't ideal. I didn't want to say this in the boardroom of the J. Edgar Hoover building-."

"Jack... ."

"But I talked to D and he told me-."

"Jack."

"And I think you should know-."

"I already know, Jack."

He looked up and realized that Sue had closed the gap between the two of them. She stood less and a few feet away, close enough that he could feel her warmth and smell her perfume.

"I know," she said.

"You know?"

"I know."

"_How_ do you know?"

"Does it matter?"

Jack was stymied. For the second time that day, he'd had a one-sided conversation with someone who already knew the answers to the questions he was asking. He straightened his shirt again. _You're fidgeting_, he could hear his mother's voice in his head. "S-So?"

It seemed like an important question to ask.

"So...," Sue trailed off, smiling to herself as she looked down at her hands, clasped in front of her, for a moment before casting her glance up to him again. She bit her lip in contemplation.

If ever a moment existed that could, without hyperbole or exaggeration, be called perfect, it was this one. Jack knew it the moment Sue's eyes locked with his and he saw the sliver of silver light glisten on her lip where she'd caught it. Maybe it was the heady scent of leather and dust and the carpet freshener the custodial staff had started using when they vacuumed that finally turned Jack impulsive; in retrospect, Jack knew it was more likely the fragrance of lavender and vanilla that Sue had applied beneath each ear and in the dip of her clavicle. These were the spots he knew because he'd watched her apply the scent for a week, every morning at the front door before they left the house to go to work that time they pretended to be married. Or the morning after he'd held her close in his bedroom and she'd tossed and turned in fitful sleep and he'd whispered that he loved her.

But maybe there were others, sections of her flesh that she carefully scented with the secret hope that he'd discover them. He wanted to know these things. He desperately wanted to know _everything_. Which side of the bed did she prefer? How did she like her eggs in the morning? _Did _she like eggs in the morning? Did she ball her socks up after she washed them or did she just fold the ends over each other? What TV programs did she watch on lazy Saturdays? Did she garden?

The boardroom of the J. Edgar Hoover building, in downtown Washington D.C. There was suddenly no other, better place.

_Enough_.

Jack took a step forward. His right hand nuzzled the side of Sue's face as he buried his fingers in her hair; his left hand found her side, the curve of her hip, the small of her back. He stepped into her and pressed his lips against hers for the first time since the last time, but this time was real. No undercover ruse to hide behind. No acting. Two people alone in a boardroom.

And as Jack felt Sue's hands come to rest on the back of his neck, as he lips parted, as the kiss deepened and Jack was hit with a wave of lavender and his heart began to race, he knew there was no description adequate for the joy that surged from nerve ending to nerve ending, firing along the synapses of his brain, that made him feel like the sparkling birthday cake topper.

Jack ran his thumb along her cheekbone, intercepting tears as he went along. So he softened the kiss, and she pulled away. He searched her eyes for a clue and found it when she smiled. It was okay.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," Jack admitted.

"Why didn't you?" Sue's voice was breathless; she swiped her fingertips across her cheeks and cleared away the rest of her tears.

"I don't know."

"I wish you had."

"I wish I had, too."

"You know what else I wish you'd done?"

Jack kissed the tip of her nose, "What's that?"

Sue opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the squeak of the door and a gasp from behind her, which Jack noticed. He raised his hand to stop her from speaking. They froze, locked in their embrace, and a long second passed.

Finally, someone shouted. "Just say it already!"

Jack turned to face the door, and Sue finally saw what it was that had Jack so concerned. Five FBI employees and one junior high school student bursting through, laughing and tripping over each other. The general sentiment seemed to be the same as they all voiced some version of the same sentence. Laughing along with their co-workers, the two of them stared back at each other in stunned wonder.

"Uh...," Jack stammered. "Sue... would you... like to go for dinner?"

Sue smiled and nodded her head. "Sure... sounds great... I mean, I have to eat, right?"

The collective groan from their teammates made Jack and Sue laugh.

"All right," Demetrius called out. "Show's over."

"_Clearly_, there's nothing to see here," Myles winked at Jack.

Tara and Lucy bounded over to Sue and began a chorus of giggling that rivaled the girls in Amanda's class. Bobby slapped his friend on the back.

"It's about time, mate," the tall Aussie agent said.

"Yeah, well... ."

"You did tell her, right?"

"You mean, did Jack tell me that he's head over heels?" Sue asked, a sly glint in her eye.

Jack froze, his mouth half-open. "Uh... ."

"Because I already knew that," she said, matter-of-factly. "He told me a long time ago."

Jack continued to gape; he was joined by Tara, and Lucy nudged Sue with her elbow, clearly upset at being left out of the loop. Myles and Bobby exchanged glances.

Sue twisted her lips into a grin and glanced at Jack. "In his own way, he's been telling me for years."

Everyone laughed and poked fun at Jack's inability to keep his feelings a secret, while Jack blushed and wished himself out of the situation. So as Demetrius received a page and announced that the party was over and a new case had landed on their desks, he realized he may have been given a reprieve, albeit a short one. He took it upon himself to usher everyone out of the room.

As he closed the door behind them, he felt Sue's hand catch his. The warmth of it surprised him. It was a feeling he knew he could get used to.

"Wait," she said, looking down at their entwined hands, positioning hers beneath his. "I also have it on good authority that you _said_ it, too," she whispered.

Jack knit his brows together, "What do you-?"

But as he felt Sue fingers he knew was she was referring to. He looked down at their hands and saw that she had formed the sign for 'I Love You,' a combination of the letters i, l, and y.

He rubbed his thumb against hers. "That night... after Simon. You heard me?"

She cocked her head to the side. "In _my _own way... ."

"So that's how... ."

Filled from the crown to the toe-top full of love and admiration for her, Jack drew her into his embrace. It was the only place in the world he wanted to be.


End file.
